Somewhere down in the catacombs that lie
beneath this manor house like spiders' webs,
all labyrinthine--where the stale air ebbs
and flows, like breath of monsters soon to die,
you'll find the Viscount's tomb. Look for his mark:
a raven on a red field strewn with bones.
Remove his banner, lay aside the stones:
the secret you seek sleeps there in the dark.
But do not go if you've a dread of death--
live out your days in ordinary time!
For something conscious shifts there in the slime
that hasn't been the Viscount these ten year.
A dead man's wares are never bought but dear.
Listen--the tunnels echo with his breath...
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